


500 Words: 35. Atavistic

by Sarahtoo



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne takes matters into her own hands. Mid 3x07 drabble based on one of Fire_Sign's 500 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	500 Words: 35. Atavistic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).



> atavistic  
>  _at-uh-vis-tik_  
>  **adjective**  
>  1\. of, relating to, or characterized by atavism; reverting to or suggesting the characteristics of a remote ancestor or primitive type.

Phryne was ready. She was alone in Jack’s office, and she knew that _thing_ was in his desk drawer. She quietly closed both doors, then moved around to sit in his chair. She reached for handle of the deep drawer to the right of the chair, her breath coming rapidly. Her fingers touched the handle and withdrew as if it had burned them, curling into a fist that hovered uncertainly in the air in front of her chest. Phryne closed her eyes a moment, forcing herself to breathe deeply. _I can do this,_ she thought. _I need to do this._

Blowing out her breath through her nose, she clenched her jaw and reached for the drawer again. Her movements abrupt, she pulled hard to slide the drawer open. Her shoulders pulled back, as far as she could get them and still see the contents of the drawer. _There._ The jar sat there, looking innocent. Phryne’s upper lip curled. Swallowing hard, she wrapped her long scarf around her hand and reached in to lift the jar out of the drawer, setting it with a click on the top of the desk before pulling away again.

The occupant of the jar moved, and Phryne couldn’t help her atavistic reaction as she recoiled, Jack’s wheeled chair rolling back until it came up against the wall. _Too. Many. Legs._ She shuddered, looking away for a moment. Then, tilting her chin up, she quickly swirled her scarf around the jar, wrapping it up completely. Hoisting the now muffled jar under her arm, she pushed the drawer closed and hastened out of Jack’s office.

“Tell the inspector I’ll be back momentarily,” she sang out to Hugh, who stood at the front desk, in what she hoped was an approximation of her usual insouciant charm. “I just need to run a quick errand.” Smiling brightly at Hugh, she breezed out the door. It was a good thing that Jack hadn’t been there—he was far more observant than Hugh and would have known she was up to something.

Outside, Phryne walked quickly for several streets, scanning for her target. Finally seeing a public garbage can, she glanced back toward the police station to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Finding herself alone, Phryne started to unravel her scarf from around the jar, but only got to the point where she could see the metal of the lid before deciding that discretion here would be the better part of valor. She stuffed the jar, scarf and all, into the bin. _I never really liked that scarf anyway,_ she thought to herself.

_Good riddance,_ she thought, smirking. Brushing her hands off, she straightened her back and hustled back to the station. If Jack was still out of his office when she got there, she would reward herself for her bravery with a cookie out of his secret stash.


End file.
